


In The Beginning

by lilidelafield



Series: WHAT If? Challenge [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9481811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilidelafield/pseuds/lilidelafield
Summary: A Challenge story from Section Seven on Livejournal.The prompt: WHAT IF Illya was the CEA and Napoleon was the New Recruit?...it was not until he was ten minutes late arriving to work due to a series of hold-ups on the road that he realized that the whispers and rumours about the skinny Russian guy being terrifying were true...





	

Illya had a reputation for being as sharp as a knife. He ran Section Two like a ticking clock; paperwork was always completed on time, and his agents too all made sure their paperwork was completed and sent up before they dared think about gadding about after coffee or gossip. They went down for their physicals exactly on time, and no one even complained when it was time for their regular psyche evaluations.

No one dared.

The Russian CEA was just too plain scary to risk raising his ire.

The fact that he was a small man, skinny and pale with black-rimmed, tinted spectacles must have been a part of it. The man looked like a nerd; unassuming and bookish, until you made him angry. Then those glasses would come off and you felt the full force of the icy Kuryakin glare.

If he was angry enough to shout, those cool blue eyes became deadly weapons; and Kuryakin always knew exactly what to say…and what not to say in order to make the guilty one feel the weight of his error. No one ever made Kuryakin angry if they could help it, and anyone unlucky enough to make him shout, never did it a second time.

Napoleon Solo, almost the most junior new agent in section three had arrived in New York just a month ago, full of ideals and determined to prove his worth. He had heard of Kuryakin by reputation of course. Cutter at survival school had seen to that, but it was not until he was ten minutes late arriving to work due to a series of hold-ups on the road that he realized that the whispers and rumours about the skinny Russian guy being terrifying were true.

Kuryakin had been waiting for Solo to arrive in order to begin his weekly meeting with his Enforcement Agents, and he always insisted that section three were present, so that they would have all the information necessary to play their part without information having to be constantly repeated. Something which irritated Kuryakin intensely. Napoleon slipped into the room with an apologetic “Sorry I’m late, sir.”.

Solo received a classic Kuryakin frozen stare, and he was starting to squirm before the Russian replaced his spectacles and picked up his papers with an off-hand “My office at ten-thirty precisely.”.

As Solo stood outside the CEA’s office, his heart was beating so hard he felt it was about to burst out of his chest. He could feel his pulse throbbing at his neck, and he could only hope the sharp-eyed Russian did not notice it.

            “Come!” Came the voice from inside the room. Napoleon entered and stood feeling rather like an errant schoolboy. This was worse than being dragged in front of Mister Waverly. At least the old man knew how to let a drop of softness enter his expression, or a twinkle in his eye. A telling off from Waverly was always far less scary because of his kindly grandfather-like demeanor. Kuryakin’s face was granite-like. Solo had not yet seen the man smile. It had crossed his mind to wonder if he even knew how to…?

He stood waiting whilst the CEA finished writing something, then he put down his pen, removed his glasses and fixed his gaze on the dark-haired man before him.

            “I have been going over your record since you first came. One month and four days, correct?”

            “Yes sir.”

            “That makes twenty-four weekdays that you have reported yourself at Del-Floria’s, and out of that twenty-four days, you have reported on time only six times.”

            “Sir, this is the first time I have been late, and it was because of an accident…” Solo retorted hotly, indignation making him momentarily forget his fear. Kuryakin held up his hand.

            “You have entered Del-Floria’s on time each morning certainly, but thereafter it takes you fifteen minutes to report to your office. Why?”

Solo suspected the CEA knew why, but it was humiliating to have to spell it out.

            “Because I…um…”

            “Because you flirt with all the female personnel you encounter en-route. Mister Solo, what you do in your own time is your business, but please keep your dalliances with the fairer sex in their proper place. This is _not_ the proper place!”

            “Yes sir.” Solo replied, keeping his growing feeling of resentment out of his tone with an effort. “Will that be all, sir?”

Kuryakin raised his eyebrows.

            “Are you not curious to learn why I directed you to come to my office?”

That made Solo blink.

            “I thought…I assumed it was to…”

            “To bawl you out? No, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you. It is on record that your expressed wish when you applied to join the U.N.C.L.E was to work for section two. Has that wish changed?”

            “No, sir. I feel I have a lot to offer.”

Kuryakin replaced his glasses and was reading through Solo’s official file. At length, he looked up.

            “As you may be aware, the deaths of Sowerby and Lanning three months ago, have left section two slightly depleted, and we need skilled agents in the field. We received seven new agents from the latest survival school graduation class, and although Jules Cutter recommended five of them for section two, in _my_ opinion, all of them but one need further basic experience and training before I am willing to put them into section two.”

Solo waited for more information, and it hit him that Kuryakin’s last remark was aimed at himself.

            “You mean me, sir?”

Kuryakin nodded.

            “I reviewed the background and training details, the strengths and weaknesses of every man we were receiving before any of you arrived. I have been watching your progress and your work, Mister Solo, and also your performance in your training sessions in the gym. I have spoken to Mister Waverly about my wish to transfer you forthwith to section two. You will need a little extra training in the field, so you will require an experienced partner to start with. Mister Waverly has given his approval. Are you willing to accept the new assignment?”

Solo’s eyebrows reached his hairline, and he just stopped himself from jumping to his feet and pumping his superior’s hand.

            “Yes! Yes sir, thank you!”

Kuryakin nodded in satisfaction.

            “Good. Whether or not this assignment, and your new partnership becomes permanent depends upon you and upon your performance.”

            “Thank…thank you Mister Kuryakin. Um…who is my new partner going to be?”

At that moment, Solo saw his boss’s face break into a smile. The first smile he had seen, and it was a revelation. It was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

            “Your new partner, Mister Solo, is to be me. I think from now on it would be okay if you were to call me Illya…”


End file.
